In the long, colorful history of Bear Valley, Mariposa County, there probably resided there no person with a more interesting personal story (a possible exception would have been John C. Fremont) than Lafayette Choisser.

The famous Las Mariposas Grant, 45,000 sprawling acres purchased by Fremont from Juan Alvarado prior to the Gold Rush, included most of what is the hamlet of Bear Valley. Mines in this region were fair game to incoming parties that filed a claim with the county, provided the mines were unoccupied. During Fremont's absence from his grant in the early 1850s the Merced Mining Company took possession of a Mt Ophir mine, to which Fremont strongly objected. Fearing the loss of several mines in the vicinity, Fremont and family, in 1858, came to live at Bear Valley. By then, however, it was too little too late. The Merced Mining Company had files claims and moved onto the profitable ones years before, erecting costly machinery in the process. The latter contended that legally, Fremont had only agricultural rights on his Las Mariposas Grant, but could not extract minerals. Fremont pointed to the fact that he held rights to the property through a United States Patent.

In determining the validity of the Las Mariposas Grant, it was necessary to determine its exact boundaries. The court also ordered that Fremont have his property resurveyed. But instead of employing a neutral party to do this, Fremont supervised the survey personally, taking care to include the lucrative Pine Tree and Josephine mines. Fremont was a fraud, so contended several members of the Merced Mining Company, which proceeded to make threats of violence, and file a law suit.

Though the court later found for Fremont, in 1857 the extreme anamosity entertained by both sides continued to make coexistence in the valley difficult at best--and at worst, deadly.

Lafayette Choisser, born in Illinois of French ancestry, came to Bear Valley in the early 1850s where, like many othes, he mined. Choisser was small in stature, being only about 5'-3" in height, withdark hair and eyes, "Punch" as he was called, was generally well-liked in Bear Valley, but when under the influence of liquor, "Punch" became eviltempered.

One Sunday night in October, 1857, Lafayette Choisser entered Joseph Bigler's saloon with a friend and the boys called out for drinks. In Bear Valley there were as many saloons as there were grocery stores, and it was not unusual to see a couple of young men passing the evening with their liquor. As the hour had grown very late (it was around one o'clock in the morning) it may be supposed that Choisser had had a few too many. At any rate, Punch had finished his liquor and prepared to depart, when the proprietor inquired of him as to whom was to pay for the drinks. To this Choisser answered that he would pay, asking presently if his credit there was any good. Though no record remains of the words that passed between the two men, Choisser had drawn his pistol, and with it struck Biegler violently on the head. Punch headed for the exit, but turned around as the proprietor picked up a gun from behind the bar. Someone had told Punch not to shoot, to which he replied that he would not do so if Biegler would put his gun away. Biegler complied, but was again siezed by an irate Punch, who dealt the poor saloon keeper another blow with the butt of his pistol. Before anyone present could interfere in the attack, Choisser had reversed his hold on the weapon and fired a fatal shot into Joseph Biegler's breast. Before his life became extinct twenty minutes later, Choisser had fled the scene.

Spectators drawn to the saloon speculated as to the cause of the shooting. Someone present pointed out that the deceased had been an outspoken member of the Merced Mining Company. Those who knew Punch Choisser understood he'd been a loyal supporter of Colonel John C. Fremont--thus the initial conflict had arisen over these political tensions.

Lafayette Choisser was on the lamb and rode north into Tuolumne County. For about fifteen days he eluded the law, but was finally captured at Independence Flat, Calaveras County, and placed under arrest by Mariposa County Sheriff Joshua D. Crippen. Following the capture, one early newspaper noted that Sheriff Crippen had been seen riding through Hornitos, prisoner in tow. It also pointed to Crippen's discreet tactics in conveying Choisser to jail, noting that otherwise, he "would probably not have reached it [alive]."

Held to answer to the murder charge, it was not until almost ten months later that Choisser was convicted of manslaughter in Mariposa District Court. Lafayette Choisser, then only 24 years of age, entered into confinement at San Quentin Prison as Prisoner #1508 for a term of five years. His personal description paints the portrait of an individual who lived a very rough life: "Face long and sharp, nose crooked, breast heavy; scar on top of the head; long scar on the second joint of left finger; scar on the back of the left thumb; scar inside of left hand near the wrist; scar on left shin - very large; a scar below the knee."

The next that we hear of "Punch" he had returned to his Bear Valley home, about 1865. He re-entered society a reformed man, living with his wife Julia, a woman ten years his junior. In 1867 their first child, Annie, had arrived and Choisser divided his time between his family, farming and working as a common laborer.

There was a popular school of thought during the 19th Century which suggested that sometimes the best man for the job of catching outlaws, was an (reformed) outlaw. And it was with this sentiment that fate had come to summon old "Punch." For a secret society consisting of wealthy landowners - headed by one E.G. Laird - calling themselves the Chowchilla Rangers, was organized in the "interest of the community." They had taken the lead (so Choisser later told a San Francisco newspaper reporter) in expelling any unwanted characters from their sphere of influence [roughly Cathey's Valley SW into the Chowchilla River country]. When the mysterious murder of Jonas Thompson was made public in May, 1878, a reward of $500 was offered by the State of California for the arrest of his killer; the Rangers quickly fixed the blame on an 18 year-old Indian boy named Willie. Evidence of his alleged role in the death of Thompson was non-existent, but he was arrested anyway and lodged in the Mariposa jail.

Intent on taking the life of Willie, the rangers attempted to extract him from his cell one night, but the noise made in their lawless endeavor immediately attracted the attention of vigilant citizens. The sheriff and district attorney, hearing the noise, hurried to the scene. Upon the approach the rangers withdrew, cursing audibly with disappointment.

During the ensuing trial, members of the malicious band could be seen milling about the halls of the courthouse, "armed to the teeth." Indian Willie was finally convicted though on an unrelated charge, and though evidence against him was circumstantial, the Indian boy was doomed to life imprisonment!

Prepared for the impending wrath of the Chowchilla men, Sheriff Clark escorted the convict to a seldom-used courthouse exit. Outside, prepared to receive the prisoner, was Deputy Lafayette Choisser! Indian Willie mounted on a fleet horse and his protector, put spurs to their animals and set out swiftly toward Hornitos. Some twenty minutes elapsed before the rangers (E.G. Laird and his sons) realized their quarry had outsmarted them. Then, men were observed running in all directions, securing mounts and riding hard down Burckhalter's Toll Road. As the rangers closed in Choisser threw Indian Willie a gun and commanded him to protect himself if necessary. At one point in the exciting chase, the pursuiers closed in on the pair, firing volley after volley, but without effect. Choisser and Willie desperately returned the fire and pressing forward attempted - if possible - to quicken their pace. Fortune smiled upon them in their desperate hour as they rode into Hornitos, unscathed but thoroughly rattled. There Deputy Choisser, hurrying to and fro, secured fresh horses and instructed the stable keeper to stall the angry mob's advance. They continued westward, hotly pursuied by the Chowchilla Rangers, who had encountered some difficulty in obtaining horses.

Arriving at Merced a few minutes ahead of the rangers, Choisser had Willie safely secured in jail for the night, and managed to hide himself. He probably slept very uneasily (if at all) as Laird and company combed the area in search of the officer who, to their great embarrassment, had eluded them.

The next morning at 6 o'clock, on the last leg of the exhausting journey, Indian Willie and Lafayette Choisser quietly boarded a train bound for San Francisco. There the deputy related to reporters the details of their spectacular escape from the furious rangers. It was estimated that the distance traveled horseback - some 45 miles - was accomplished in a record time of about three hours and forty-five minutes.

Undoubtedly, Choisser had saved the neck of Indian Willie, and endeared "Punch" to numberless Mariposans, who praised him for his bravery in the execution of his hazardous duty.

A sad postscript to Punch Choisser's breathtaking adventure is that poor Willie was to die less than ten years into his life sentence, within the walls of San Quentin Prison - walls that Choisser himself had come to know intimately during his five year residence there.

The Chowchilla Rangers, to satisfy their bloodlust, had taken revenge some days later when they roused the Indian community at Pea Ridge (about five miles south of the town of Mariposa) from their peaceful slumber. This group of laboring, industrious and peaceable Indians had the misfortune of sharing the same blood as the convict Willie. Laird and his sons and other rangers tied some six Indians to trees and fatally shot and mutilated them. Children and old people were not spared, and shocked survivors left at once to notify the authorities.

None other than Lafayette Choisser was called out to assist Sheriff Clark in bringing in E.G. Laird and his clan. First the Laird ranch near Merced was searched, but Mrs. Laird informed the lawmen that her husband had departed with a band of hogs into the Chowchilla/White Rock area. Choisser and Clark resumed their hunt with the help of Merced County Sheriff A.J. Meany and Deputy French. From present-day Planada this formidable group rode east, picking up Laird's trail, which brought them eventually to Mormon Bar, on Mariposa Creek. There, on one early morning in January, 1879 the killers were arrested without incident and taken to the jail at Mariposa. Laird and his companions, in the trial that followed, were cleared of all charges on the premis that an Indian (the only witnesses in the atrocity) could not understand the nature of an oath.

The lively career of Lafayette Choisser came to a close not far from his Bear Valley residence, on November 17, 1884. He had left Mr. T.W. Stevens's house on the Merced River at Benton Mills, in company of Antone de Silva. Silva invited Choisser down to his house, a short distance away, for a drink of wine. At about 10:30 a.m. Choisser, accepting his host's tumbler of brandy, said to Silva: "I have not been drinking for some time." While Silva went down to his cellar for the wine, Choisser downed a glass of whiskey. After he and Silva drank a bottle of wine, one Bill Evans came in the house and joined them. Before leaving, he invited Choisser to go with him a few days in hunting deer, to which he agreed. Evans then left.

Fearing that maybe Choisser had had too much to drink, Silva offered him his brother's bed and then went outside to bring in the horses. "I have to go home," said Choisser observing the time to be about four o'clock. He drank another glass of wine before turning to leave. "I have to be in the office every morning."

According to report, Punch had downed about a quart of wine, not counting the whiskey and brandy. As he prepared to depart, Silva had to help him in mounting his horse.

That evening Punch was expected to come home for dinner. He never made it.

Early the next day, his son Philip Choisser, a lad of 15 years, saddled up his horse and took the trail leading down to the Merced River. Arriving at Benton Mills, he asked Mr. Stevens if he'd seen his father. "Not since he left here yesterday with Silva," came the reply.

Going on to Silva's place, Philip was informed that his father had left at about four o'clock the previous day. Young Choisser then rode ahead and, realizing his worst fear, was horrified to find the body of his father about five feet below the trail running from Benton mills towards the Coulterville Ferry. Above the body were visible traces of blood. He left at once to notify his mother of the tragic news.

A physician testified before the coroner and jury that Choisser had come to his death by some kind of violence. An examination showed that his skull had been fractured from the front and back, most peculiar wounds had he merely been thrown from his horse.

Bill Evans, who had spoken to Choisser and Silva at the latter's house just hours before Choisser's death, had noted the presence of the criminal Dominguez Azevedo in the vicinity - adding more credibility to the theory that Lafayette Choisser had met his death not by accident, but at the hands of a murderer. Perhaps Evans had merely offered a convenient scenario.

In any case, here we write "fine" beneath Lafayette Choisser, better known as "Punch." He was not the only peace officer that had crossed the fine line between lawless and lawful. To his credit he "went straight" to ride down through the years as the hombre that earned his place among the early lawmen that risked their lives enforcing the law throughout old Mariposa county.



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posses, indian outlaws, coulterville, shootouts, duels, ghost towns, 49ers, mariposa, california history, mariposa history, legends, bandits, outlaws, lawmen, desperadoes, mariposa county, mariposa county history, mariposa legends, peace officers, historical express, gold rush history, gold rush bandits, californ